Nothing Happened
by BenjaminWilliam
Summary: Faberry // She’s the first thing that the cheerio thinks about in the morning, the last thing before she drifts off to sleep and almost everything in between.


**A/N: Another Faberry oneshot. Thank you to all the people who have reviewed the others, and have added them to favourites. If you want to review this one too, I wouldn't be complaining. ;] This one is a bit longer and more in depth, which I hope will satisfy Pricilla Grey's request.**

**Also, I realised that I haven't put a disclaimer in my previous fics – but you all knew I wasn't Ryan Murphy, didn't you? If I was, this shit would be canon.**

"How about we don't talk about it, Treasure Trail?" Quinn asks rhetorically, brushing past the diva in a characteristic display of arrogance. As she'd suspected however, Rachel isn't willing to let this go.

"Okay Quinn, let's _not _talk about the fact that you dragged me into a closet and kissed me, and have been ignoring me all week. No reason I should be curious about that!" The small diva is glaring up at the taller girl, not out of anger but frustration.

"Will you keep your fucking voice down?" Quinn hisses, turning briefly to look at the other girl. "Nothing. Happened." With that, she storms off down the hall and into the arms of Puck, leaving an increasingly confused and hurt Rachel Berry behind.

Things had been going perfectly for McKinley's star performer: Glee were set to win Regionals, she had a boyfriend who cared about her and was a shoe-in for Juilliard – then Quinn Fabray had to pull this shit, and turn her world upside down in one little kiss that had her heart racing in a way that Finn's lips never could. The cheerleader has the audacity to whisk the rug out from under her feet, and then expects Rachel to act like it had never happened? For the past seven days, all the brunette can think about is the way their lips had meshed together perfectly – even when she had given in to Finn's desire for intimacy! Nothing she did could get the blonde out of her mind, and the star wasn't even certain she wanted to. Nothing had ever sparked such desire in her – not Jesse, not Finn, not even Glee. Then suddenly, it was gone without a word. Even there, standing in front of her locker with a good chunk of the student body, she had to fight the need to cry. Rachel Berry rarely cried – except on command, of course.

Arms wrap around her from behind, and she lets a wistful sigh break through her lips. It's Finn, she knows that. She just can't help but wish that it was the beautiful blonde she can see whispering something in her boyfriend's ear. Whatever it is makes Puck laugh, and he takes her hand. Rachel can only dream of it being her.

It's another two weeks before Rachel catches Quinn on her own again, heading home from Glee. She manages to grab her arm and drag her into the privacy of an empty auditorium before she can object. When Quinn sees who has pulled her into the hall, she groans and when she finally speaks her voice sounds resigned. "What do you want from me, Rachel?"

"Well, firstly I'd like you to look at me," the star says, and she struggles to keep the anger out of her voice. "And then you're going to tell me what the _hell _is going on."

Reluctantly, the cheerleader raises her head to meet Rachel's eyes and she feels her stomach do a back-flip when she sees the fire burning in their muddy depths. She so needs to get out of here. "I don't know what you're talking about," she says, but they both know she's lying. Quinn can't remember ever having been so transparent.

"Cut the shit," Rachel says, surprisingly calmly, "and tell me what's going on in that head of yours."

"Why do you need to know? Just go back to your boyfriend, and act like this never happened."

"I can't!" Quinn is surprised by the amount of desperation in the other girl's voice, and she takes a second to look the girl up and down. Rachel Berry is, well, a mess. Not physically – no, the star is as beautiful as ever, as much as it pains Quinn to admit it. The confidence her presence usually exudes had been stripped away, and she's fidgeting relentlessly with the hem of her skirt – a sight that causes Quinn's breath to hitch. "Quinn, I just can't." Tearing her eyes away from the tan skin of Rachel's thighs, the cheerleader looks at Rachel and prays to god that the other girl didn't notice where her gaze had strayed to. Quinn has never seen the brunette so broken, and it causes a sharp pain in her chest when she realises it's her fault. "You want to know something, Quinn?"

Despite herself, the blonde nods. She wants to know everything there could possibly be to know about Rachel Berry – but she can't. Her parents have already kicked her out once, and she can't imagine the pain of it happening a second time. Her heart says she's gay, and infatuated with one Rachel Berry. Her head says it just can't be. For a minute, three weeks ago, Quinn had let heart rule over head. It was the worst, most amazing mistake she had ever made. Worse even than her pregnancy, because she never wanted to go through that again – she would give anything to kiss Rachel a second, third, fourth, fifth and sixth time, without repercussions. Anything.

It takes a moment or so for Rachel to compose herself. Then she says, never looking away from the startling green eyes of the girl she is gradually falling for. "You are rude, condescending, overbearing-"

"Wait, _you_ think _I'm_ overbearing?" the cheerleader arches an eyebrow, and receives a scathing look from the girl insulting her.

"You constantly interrupt me. You always need to bring me down, and never let me shine the way we all know I'm capable of," Quinn almost scoffs at the cockiness of that statement, then remembers that interrupting again could potentially be dangerous. "You call me the worst names I have ever had to put up with. You have made me cry more times than I can count."

"Do you have a point, Berry? Or do you just want to make me feel worse than I already do?"

"If you would just shut up for five seconds, you would hear my point," Rachel snaps, sick of the constant input from Quinn. She's meant to be in charge of this altercation, and that means that she's the one that gets to do all the talking. "You do all these things, Quinn. You hurt me, day in and day out. You've thrown frozen corn syrup in my face more than once – do you know how much that stuff stings in your eyes?" She doesn't wait for an answer, because she is fed up of not getting her feelings out anywhere but Glee. "You torment me constantly, Quinn, and I don't even know why. At first, after that kiss, I thought it was a classic case of the little boy –or girl, in your case–pulling the little girl's pigtails in the playground because he likes her. Then you go and start ignoring me – and do you want to know the worst thing about that, Quinn? It hurt. It hurt more than all those things combined. I broke up with Finn today. Want to know why? Because I can't stay away from you."

She takes a step towards the cheerleader, brushing a few golden strands away from the other girl's eyes. She notices the other girl's breath catch in her throat and feels a rush knowing that it's her inciting this reaction from Quinn. She watches green eyes darken marginally, and continues before the pair of them get too distracted. "You know, over these last few weeks, you have been all I can think about. I keep falling flat on any notes above a high B. I haven't been able to force myself out of bed and into my early morning workout, because I'd rather sleep another hour and dream of you." Quinn unknowingly licks her lips at the thought of Rachel in running shorts, and it doesn't go unnoticed. As much as she wants to give into her urges and kiss her to within an inch of her life, Rachel knows she needs to get everything off her chest. She needs to clear the air between them, and attempt to rid them of any bad blood. Then, hopefully, they can get to the kissing part.

"My relationship with Finn fell apart, because he can't give me what I need now. He isn't blonde, and beautiful and strong – and he sure as hell can't pull off that short skirt like you can." Quinn blushes, and let's a small smile form on her face. She can't even begin to express how much she wants this, how much the words falling from Rachel's lips mean to her. The way they're lighting a fire in her belly, and making her feel drunk even though she hasn't touched a drop of the what her parents deemed the "devil drink" since Puck's party. It was her parents that were the problem. She remembered the day she'd been watching a new show on TV with her mom, South of Nowhere if she remembers rightly. Her mother's words when Ashley Davies had come out chilled her to the bone, even now. If she reacted like that to a fictional lesbian, then Quinn can only imagine how would she react to her daughter's attraction to girls – well, one girl. She isn't certain she can bear to be a disappointment to the Fabray name again.

"I know you're scared, Quinn. You think I amn't? Three weeks ago, I thought I was straight. Then you kissed me. And it was like fireworks exploded in my skull and a marching band was parading around in my brain, and Ellen Degeneres was there waving a rainbow flag!" Quinn giggled, looking shyly up at the girl she was ashamedly in love with. If she kept saying these sweet things, the blonde wasn't sure she'd still be able to resist. "That kiss wasn't what I thought I wanted, but ended up being everything I could ever need." She tries, but fails to keep the plea out of her voice with what she says next, "Quinn, please. You can't take this away from me."

Quinn, for her part, is silent. She wants to be cutting Quinn. She wants to not care about anyone's feelings but her own, like she used to. She wants to say, "Yeah? Well, I already have," just like the old Quinn Fabray would have. She wants to storm out without a second thought. But she can't: because Rachel Berry is under her skin. She's the first thing that the cheerio thinks about in the morning, the last thing before she drifts off to sleep and almost everything in between. She's been messing up at cheerleading practice, and she knows that she's one quiver away from being kicked off the squad and being replaced as captain by Santana. She could let that all be in vain. She could be thrown away by Sue like yesterday's protein shake, and she will be. Saying no to what Rachel is proposing won't stop her being distracted from her flips and kicks, it won't make any difference to who she is – deep down, Quinn Fabray is a self-conscious, scared little homo and she needs to deal with that – with Rachel by her side.

It's been several minutes since either them have spoken, and finally the diva sighs and turns to leave. It's obvious that, despite her beliefs, Quinn Fabray hasn't changed. This is why she's shocked when her crush snatches her hand and twirls her round into a searing kiss. It's similar to their first kiss, and entirely different all at the same time. Their first kiss had been short, nervous, filled with trepidation and tinted with just a hint of passion and underlying feelings. This kiss – this kiss brought all those undercurrents of desire to the forefront, but in its own way was still slow. Unlike the time before, there was no tongues, just lips meeting casually like they have all the time in the world. No rush, and none of the discomfort of being trapped amongst mops and cleaning fluid. There's no reek of bleach tainting the moment, Quinn's nostrils being filled with nothing but Rachel. Vanilla, cinnamon, and something else that she can't quite place. The cheerleader decides to call it "Rachel", as she snakes her arms around the other girl's neck keeping her firmly in place – as if the brunette ever wanted to pull away. When she could stand it no longer, Quinn probed at Rachel's lips with her tongue, begging to be allowed to deepen the kiss. When she's given her permission in the form of the starlet's mouth opening, she feels like the luckiest girl in the world.

Much to both girls' distaste, oxygen becomes an issue and they have to break apart. Rachel moves to pull out of Quinn's arms and in response the cheerleader tightens her hold. A raised eyebrow says, "where the hell do you think you're going?" and a rosy blush colours the diva's cheeks. They kiss again, and again until Quinn can bear to part from her lips for more than a few seconds at a time. She's waited so long for this, and it's nothing short of addictive. When Quinn backs away from her, Rachel wonders if this is going to happen like last time. If her confession would mean nothing, and the cheerleader would act like nothing had ever happened between them. Again.

She's certain that the smile she's wearing could easily cut her face clean in half when Quinn laces their fingers, and places a gentle peck on her cheek.

"Come on, gorgeous, how about I walk you home?"


End file.
